What’s the point of it all?

Don’t wonder. Wondering leads to disaster.

But I wonder.
Where does this lead?
What am I meant to be doing?
What is beyond the light at the end of the tunnel?

Turn it off. Quieten your thoughts. Numb the firing neurones.

I am meant to wander aimlessly?
There is no incentive to live?

Live to be loved. Live to breathe the air. Live for the sunny days that give you warmth.

Beyond the moment,
beyond this purpose of the day,
far beyond what I can see and touch,

I want more!

Take it or leave it. It’s this moment, or nothing.

The others
They lie
To themselves

Is it my flaw that I see it
From the get go
Dead end
No exit

Stop digging
Before the hole gets too deep
End it before it even begins

Driving through a concrete jungle, neighbours in cars, passengers on buses.
My mind numb from all the light.
My ear soaked with urban madness.

I close my eyes -
black, vast, darkness.
Finally, it’s just me.

A place where no one is responsible for how I feel,
what I say,
how I re-act.

I can think,
I can feel,
I can laugh,
at whatever I want to.

It’s my joke,
it’s my world.

I am the queen of the entirety,
the ruler of my own heart,
the owner of my emotions,
the solver of all my problems.

In this world,
it is I,
alone.

Eyelids flicker,
as I return to the reality of light and sound,
the reality of others.

I wonder,
how long before it’s just I,
alone,
forever?

I’m already contemplating a new adventure, and this one isn’t even over yet.
I guess I should be used to my scatter brain ways. It’s not the first time that ideas gush at me and hit me hard, always face first.
But for now, I had to focus. I was on the tail end of a life-changing experience, or so most will call it. It was only six months ago that I had packed up everything that I owned of value, a few pieces of cloth known as clothes, my only pair of sneakers, and a bikini into a 12 liter backpack, and hit the road – or rather, the sky.

My parents were generous enough to give me a graduation present, as if acquiring an arts degree from a second rate university is anything to be rewarded for, but I accepted it with open hands. My dad worked for an airline company so I always knew that this time would come and I had prepared for it throughout my last 2 years of undergrad. I researched which continent I’d prefer to go to, and what countries I could explore without breaking the bank. I also saved up as much money as I could, and with the cheap budget in my mind, I almost always knew it had to be Asia.
When the day arrived and my parents placed the golden envelope in my hands, I was shrieking on the inside. But my parents wouldn’t have seen it, not matter how hard they stared at me. I was known to uphold a nonchalant manner. It was just who I was, or rather used to be and simply had to keep up with appearances. I easily muttered ‘Thanks guys,’ and a tiny smile began to spread. I had to turn around before they could see my full faced grin, and ran up the stairs to pack.
I had a return trip ticket to anywhere in the world!

I would leave a week after I was presented with the ticket. My parents didn’t realize that I had wanted to travel for a whole month rather than just a week like they had suggested. If they were displeased with this idea, they sure didn’t show it. They tried hard to be supportive since they were more afraid of me running off and never coming back. They knew how I felt about life in suburbia. I was just another face, who after college would get a nine to five job and settle down somewhere close enough to my parents so I could have a family and share the typical American traditions of Christmas, summer barbecues and Thanksgiving. The thought of the normalcy of such a life made me want to hurl, but what else was I meant to do? I just knew I had to get out of suburbia to figure it all out. I spent the last four years dreaming of this day, the day I could finally be myself in the real world.

I decided that I would go to Bangkok, the central hub for southeast Asia from what I had read. From there I knew I wanted to go to the beaches that Thailand was famous for.
It would be my first time traveling alone but I was ready for it. I was a loner all my life, with no real friends or any attachment to my family. It almost felt like I was preparing for this adventure all my life. The loneliness only compelled me to do things more on my own, I enjoyed it in an eerie way.

I arrived on a late Thursday afternoon. The humidity hit me the second I stepped off the plane but a few seconds later the contrast of the air con chilled me to the bone. I had booked a hostel online and was told to take a bus into the city. The bus took just over an hour to reach Ko San Road. As I exited the bus I realized that I was surrounded by foreigners and as the afternoon quickly turned into night, I regretted coming to Bangkok at all. Ko San Road seemed to be the first choice for college grads to continue their party abroad. The thin walls of my $2 a night hostel shook with the bass of the bar next door. I lied on my sleeping bag that I had used to cover the musky sheets, and stared into the darkness wondering what the hell I was doing. As much as I had read in guide books and on the internet, I still didn’t have a plan. I was more worried about leaving my shitty life that I had neglected to figure out what I could do to make it less shitty.

I met Vance the next day. Ko San Road in the morning is quite a sight, with empty beer bottles, condom wrappers and leftover food bits – hedonism at its best. Of course I preferred it better this way, the vast emptiness of any human life. Vance was sitting on the curb with a smile that could spark a candle. His unusual form so early in the morning made stare quite rudely.
“So you can stare, but you can’t smile. Good morning to you too!”
His accent was enticing and I ransacked my brain to figure out where exactly it was from. My thinking face was definitely more repulsive than my staring face, but Vance continued to speak to me, causing me more astonishment.
“Hey, did you hear me?” he asked,”Oh, sorry. Do you speak English?”
“I’m just trying to figure out where you are from,” I told him.
“Well, you could just ask me rather than make that face,” he joked. “South Africa, near Cape Town. You a Yankee?”
I nodded. “Ok, that’s cool. See ya,” I quickly replied and began on my way.
“Hey!” he yelled out behind me. “Wanna get some brekkie?”
I stopped in my tracks and faced the reality of what I was doing – being exactly the way I had been all my life. This adventure was for change, to make my life better. So I turned around and cheerily replied “Sure!”
Vance was stunned, he didn’t really expect me to respond at all.
He had been in Bangkok for a few days so he knew where the cheap local restaurants were, a bit of a walk away from the tourist hole I was staying in. Somehow during breakfast Vance convinced me to go to a temple, just across the river. It was my first day of sightseeing, and Vance was easy going and enjoyed talking. I was a better listener so I liked his company. I figured a few more hours of wandering around this overwhelming city wouldn’t be so bad.

I surprised myself when I halfheartedly agreed to leave the next day to Ko Tao with Vance. I wasn’t drunk. Thai beers are pretty light and even after 4 Changs, I wanted to drink more. I had spent the whole day with Vance. I had envisioned myself exploring on my own, perhaps talking to a few people to get some information about places to see, but other than that, just me and my iPod. Half my head was screaming on the inside, and it was my mom’s voice repeatedly asking me what I was doing. Vance was a stranger, what was his motive? The other half of my head calmed me down, reassuring me that this is what traveling is about, meeting new people and taking chances. I considered myself street smart and if ever I felt uncomfortable I could leave. It was all a risk, coming to this side of the world, being in a place where I couldn’t read the signs or speak the language, and carrying around valuables knowing at any time I could be mugged. It had only been two days since leaving suburbia, and already I felt like a new person.
We took the night train to Surat Thani, 10 hours south of Bangkok. The train was cold, with air con blasting and filled with foreigners and their over-sized backpacks. I felt like I was in a movie, perhaps an Asian version of ‘Eurotrip’. Vance had been traveling for a few months. He started in Australia where he worked his way around the country, picking fruits on farms. He complained Australia was expensive but still worth it because the landscape was stunning. He told me stories about hiking up Ayers Rock, diving in the Grand Barrier Reef, and trekking through the rain forests. I was envious yet inspired. I wanted to do it all too. He quickly had become my new favorite person.
From Surat Thani, we had to hop onto a bus followed by a ferry. I had no idea it would take this much transit to reach an island. Vance always knew in which direction to head so I just followed behind, grateful that I had found an experienced travel partner. I finally felt at ease as soon as we got on the ferry. I stood on the deck, salty air in my face and my hair getting tangled up with the wind. I stared out into the endless ocean and acknowledged how far I was from everything I knew. Here, I had no identity. I could be whomever I wanted to be. A fresh start. Definitely a refreshing idea.
I spent the entire ferry ride on deck alone. Finally when the ferry docked I felt good, reassured and confident. My adventure had a real purpose, I would use this time to re-create myself. I was already proud of myself for befriending a stranger and coming this far without having any real doubts. I was also smiling a lot more since I met Vance. He gave me a sense of security and made the possibility of traveling realistic. I had the sudden urge to call my parents and thank them.

I stood at the pier in Ko Tao, my backpack slung over my shoulder, my face filled with a confused expression. Vendors were attacking my from every direction, asking me if I wanted a room at their guesthouse. I stared at the ferry barely blinking, causing them to think I was deaf and mute.
I must have stood there for at least an hour, watching as ferries came and went and people got off and on. The noon sun was heating up and I felt the burn on my forehead. I slowly swaggered into the pier’s convenience store and hydrated myself while still figuring out what just happened.
I wondered if I should just stay at the pier, maybe he’ll find me. But for how long do I wait? Then I wondered if it was possible for people to vanish into thin air. I saw him get on the ferry, we were together. I re-played the last few hours on the ferry in my head over and over again. No, I didn’t hear anyone jump into the ocean off the ferry either.
The shock made me numb, from head to toe. Walking felt like moving bricks. I managed to get to Sairee Beach after what seemed like hours of walking. I checked into the first guesthouse I could find. Suddenly I felt more lost than ever.

I never saw Vance again. Sometimes I wonder if he even existed at all. But he was the beginning to my journey, almost a blessing that pointed me in the right direction. It took a few days for the initial shock to subside. I stayed away from meeting people again, the loner type lifestyle suited me better. The beach provided me solace so I began to to dive. Perhaps it was the overwhelming silence from beneath the waters, or the weightlessness I felt when striding next to the underwater critters, but I had found my calling. It’s been six months, and I’m finally leaving Ko Tao.

The feeling lies in the gut of my stomach,
a big lump,
rises upwards,
lungs, heart, pit stop in the throat.

Fingers feels the spazz,
electricity surges right down to the tips.

I can’t see clearly,
my thoughts overtaken by frustration, betrayal,
and the overwhelming urge to scream.

Punch?
ouch, my hands.
Kick?
Damn, my foot!

Emotionally overcharged,
just let it run.

Tears stream down,
cheeks, chin, neck..
fading salt tears.
It’s going to leave a mark,
on my skin.

Deep within I know the truth -
this too shall pass,
brighter days,
with less frustration will arrive.

The emotions will pass,
the energy will fizzle,
the tears will halt,
leaving white patches on my cheeks.

I will emerge,
smile again,
laugh again.

The patches on my cheek will disappear,
the lump will be lost.
The scar will be within,
on my soul,
in my heart.

Will that, also pass?

He can read what I am saying,
staring into my eyes.
I can smile forever,
from just hearing his laugh.

Talking for hours, about really nothing at all.
I stop for a second -
no, I’m not a teenager and I can still feel like this.
Do this.
Be me.

Best friends.
Can be lovers.
Seemed like a myth,
too good to be true.

Then he takes me hands,
intertwined in his,
holds me close,
simply wanting to make me smile …

This love is serious,
seriously whole,
and seriously good.

The comfort that comes from only knowing him as a friend,
a love so pure, filled with the utmost respect.
The moment flutters,
screaming that the heart wants what it wants,
or perhaps always what it can’t get.

An abundance of happiness,
followed by the overwhelming state of reality as it hits my face.

His eyebrows are flawed.
Too thin, or was it too thick?
Too dark, definitely too dark.
Also crooked,
a little bit.

We can always just be friends.
Good friends,
the kind that just holds hands.

Friendship is a structure,
built with time.

So much for building this house of cards.

Months of laying the foundation,
nights of endless chatter
and giggles.

Spoons, hugs, secrets shared.

Pacts made,
without blood involved.

The support system,
a surrogate family,
trials come along with tribulations
like all connections created with
love.

Amidst the gossip,
the laugh like school girls,
the moment where bonding is confirmed -
a wind blows.

After all,
a house of cards must collapse.

In the form of deviance,
the form of secrets,
jealousy and betrayal.

Worst of all,
lust.

The wind blows
when its least expected,
the foundation seems strong
but alas,
the house of cards will collapse.

365 days of existence,
the earth has completed it axis.

12 months,
of breathing,
beating,
eating,
walking,
living?
or dying?

A reason to celebrate -
what exactly?

Counting numbers,
counting years -
number the candles,
make a wish.

Toasts, cake slices, hurrahs.
A celebration,
of existence?
A celebration,
to be closer to the end?

The body withers,
the brain shatters,
the heart drains,
with each encounter another piece is chipped.

Of dignity,
of hope.

Another year gained of life,
or is it the loss of a year of life?

Celebrate,
make a wish.

The day begins without a stitch,
smiling at familiar faces, nodding with respect.
Greetings, chatter, flurry about what the day will hold.

Grades, homework, what games to play at recess.
Oh, it’s time to take a seat.

Printing neatly, reading aloud, followed by numbers and graph paper.
A dash of rocks and how they are formed, mixed with creating maps and even games if the work is completed in time.

A moan in the corner about too much homework,
reassurance from the adult in the room about what’s good for you.

“Yes, we understand,”
altogether now.

The anticipation:
not the homework, not the test,
a new soul,
a new warmth to fill a space in this room,
the same room in which the routine goes about uninterrupted,
day by day.

Merry minds, smiles emerge filled with hope.
Chatter,
always the chatter.
A new best friend? A boy or girl? Where will they sit? What games will they like?

Unimaginable;
the happiness of a classroom can rest upon a single soul,
the entrance creates fluster,
yet the results can change a life (or two) forever.

Interchangeable dynamics,
created by the little people,
whose ability to create merriment illudes their soul.

*inspired by my students; through observing the minds of the little people who bring me so much joy each and every day.

It’s hard to see,
ahead,
an eerie mix of dark space and unknowingness overwhelms.

You can wait,
for the dark space to clear,
for the unknowing to become known.

You can not wait.
Take a step towards it,
break the darkness,
shatter it with an overwhelming strength of confidence,
yes,
that IS how it’s done.

Light will follow.
Answers will prevail,
space will continue to darken in however,
don’t let it ease the strength.

Rise again,
shine as bright as possible.

Light WILL follow.